
Class 




Book 




PRESENTED BY 



/ 



THE 



DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 



L 



*1 



THE EDITOR OF THE "COURT JOURNAL." 

" This volume we can pronounce to be as attractive in its appea^ we 
as it is laudable in its object." 

Court Journal. 



THIRD EDITION. 

LONDON: 

LUP TON RELFE 
1849. 






dtffc 









HIS MAJESTY'S ATTORNEY GENERAL 
IS INSCRIBED; 

TO TESTIFY THE AUTHORS APPROBATION OF HIS 

JUDICIOUS AND PERSEVERING EFFORTS, 

IN THE CAUSE OF ITS 

HERO. 



PREFACE, 



It is scarcely necessary to say that this poem 
owes its origin to the striking (though not, other- 
wise, very clever) jeu 6? esprit from which its epi- 
graph is adopted ; and which has been, for some 
time, running about the world, under the credit 
of the various paternities of Porson, Coleridge, 
and Southey, — the latter of whom is (or per- 
haps the two latter, jointly, are) pretty generally 
supposed to be its authors. To whomsoever this 
title may be due, it is probable that it has not 
been considered, by its author, worth reclaiming ; 
as, excepting the ingenuity of its idea, (more fe- 
licitous, after all, than original,) it has little to 
recommend it, and was, there can be little doubt, 
thrown upon the world, by the writer, as a thing 
of no pretension. The notice which has been 
attracted, by its singularity, (a notice increased 



PREFACE. 



and perpetuated by the mistake which, for so 
long a time, assigned it to Porson, and which 
mistake, probably, induced many to think it 
more singular than it really is,) has produced 
several imitations of it ; and of the original 
poem itself, and its various imitations, (including 
one published, in part, by Mr. Moore, from the 
posthumous papers of Lord Byron, and stated to 
be in the possession of Lord Holland,) it may be 
said, generally, that the plan (due, of course, 
only to the first) forms the principal merit. To 
this remark the present poem is not offered as 
any exception, — being a mere undigested squib, 
hastily sketched, and putting forth no claim to be 
considered as any thing more than a rough and 
unfinished adaptation of an idea, which, how- 
ever, it appears to the author, might, in fit hands, 
be rendered singularly available for the purposes 
of satire of a better order than mere personal- 
ities. 



THE 



DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 



From his brimstone bed, at break of day, 
A walking the Devil is gone, 
To Visit his snug little farm of the earth, 
And see how his stock gets on. 

The Devil's Walk. 



The Devil sits in his easy-chair, 

Sipping his sulphur tea, 

And gazing out, with a pensive air, 

O'er the broad bitumen sea ; 

Lulled into sentimental mood, 

By the spirits' far-off wail, 

That sweetly, o'er the burning flood, 

Floats on the brimstone gale ! — 

The Devil, who can be sad, at times, 

In spite of all his mummery, 

And grave, — though not so prosy quite 

As drawn by his friend Montgomery, — 

The Devil, to-day, has a dreaming air, 

And his eye is raised, and his throat is bare ! 



8 THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 

His musings are of many things, 

That — good or ill — befell, 

Since Adam's sons macadamized 

The highways into Hell : — 

And the Devil — whose mirth is never loud ■ 

Laughs with a quiet mirth, 

As he thinks how well his serpent-tricks 

Have been mimicked, upon earth ; , 

Of Eden and of England, soiled 

And darkened by the foot 

Of those who preach with adder-tongues, 

And those who eat the fruit ; 

Of creeping things, that drag their slime 

Into God's chosen places, 

And knowledge leading into crime, 

Before the angels' faces ; 

Of lands — from Nineveh to Spain — 

That have bowed beneath his sway, 

And men who did his work, — from Cain, 

To Viscount C***l****gh ! 

The Devil called for Dagon, 
That " ancient fish-like " spirit, 
A sort of water-dragon, 
Of a very fiendish merit ; — 
Commander he, already, was 
Of all the host of Devils, 
Prime minister, of high repute 
For generating evils ! 
To him, who o'er the Pagan hosts 
Had governed long and well, 



THE DEVIL S PROGRESS. 

His prince consigned the government 
Of the mother-country, Hell ; — 
A hook-nosed little Devil, 
With a very knowing look, 
And he entered on his dignity, 
By the title of " Regent-duke " ! 

The Devil has doffed his fire-proof hat, 

His royal wire-gauze vest, 

His amianthine trowsers, 

And his jacket of asbest ! — 

But where shall the Devil find a dress 

That a gentleman of birth 

May sport in the gay metropolis 

Of his colony, the earth ? — 

P**t sent a full-dress uniform, 

With its ornaments of guilt ; * 

Sir William C**t # s longed to see 

The Devil in a kilt ! 

Sir Robert Walpole lent his cloak, 

But that was stained with mud, — 

And Paine his cap of liberty, 

But that was soiled with blood ! 

To dress the Devil in his clothes 

Lord L#*d**d***y burned, 

But the breeches had seen much dirty work, 

And the coat been often turned ! 

The Emperor Alexander sent three pairs of pumps, 

* Query, Gilt ? — Printer s Devil. 



10 THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 

For his royal brother to choose, 

But the Devil 's a gentleman, and scorned to stand 

In any blackguard's shoes ! 

Pitt offered the Devil his " pilot's " dress, 

In which he had " weathered the storm," 

But the dress was a very costly dress, 

And the Devil disliked its form ; — 

And he thought, with a smile, upon England, the while, 

And the trick which her pilot had taught her, 

Of shielding herself from the storm above, 

By putting her head under water ! 

Judge Jefferies would have lent his wig, — 

A wig to the Devil's own mind, — 

But he hinted that his brother B**t 

Had one of the selfsame kind ; 

The fire, he said, near which he stood, 

Had done his own much wrong, 

But his brother B**t's was quite as good, 

And had not been burnt so long ! * 

One sent a suit that in the Court 

Of Chancery had been worn, 

But the suit was very much too long, 

And the pockets were stripped and torn ; 

The coat was out at the elbows, and seemed 

As if &i/Z-hooks had slashed the sleeves, 

And the trowsers looked as the wearer 

Had fallen among thieves ! 

A courtier sent a full court-dress, 

* Query, Is not this an anachronism ? — Printer's Devil. 
" Coming events cast their shadows before." — Campbell. 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 11 

Which fitted the Devil, with ease, 

But Satan is proud, and the breeches 

Were threadbare about the knees ! 

Machiavel politely lent 

A " coat of many colors," 

But the Devil is far too wise to ape 

The habits of earth's rulers ! 

A letter for Prince Metternich 

Was in the waistcoat-pocket, 

And, " per favour the Devil," to "His Grace the Duke," 

A new-planned C**g**ve rocket ; — 

(In his ancient calling, that worthy knight 

Had laboured long and well, 

And perfected his instrument, 

In the crucibles of Hell !) 

Of these packets the Devil took charge, with a grin, 

As, also, of another, 

From Dagon, the Regent-duke of Hell, 

To the Regent-duke, his brother ! 

A letter from Cardinal Belial, 

To his Holiness, the Pope, 

And Governor **** sent back, to his son, 

The old ancestral rope ! 

Prince Moloch to N**c***le's duke 

Sent overtures, to sell 

Two snug close-boroughs of his own, 

Near to the fire, in Hell ; 

He said, too, that, as earth was crammed, 

With over-population, 



12 THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 

There were pleasant tracts, amongst the damned, 

Most fit for emigration ; 

The soil, he said, had long been drained, 

To any heart's desire, 

And each man might sit down, at once, 

Beside his own warm fire ; 

For the surplus vagabonds of earth 

No fitter vent could be, 

And the Duke and Michael Sadler 

Were asked to come and see ! 

There was a letter to one Mrs. C**tts, 
Writ by one Mistress Gwynne, 
And another, from one Fanny Roots, 
To a b**d near Lincoln's Inn ! 
An unsealed letter, written, 
As it seemed, with a bloody hand, 
Had these five enigmatic words, 
" Why CuMBERest thou the land ? " 
It bore the name of " S****s," 
At its foot, — and in the room 
Of other name, had this address, 
" The Devil knows for whom " ! 

All these, — besides petitions, signed, 
To the British legislation, 
By all the freeholders in Hell, 
Against " emancipation " ; 
One for a tax upon the wind, — 
(Pitt only taxed the light !) 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 13 

And one for an excise on mind, 

(The intellectual sight, — 

The Devil felt he had made a hit, 

When he could, thus, refine on Pitt!) 

To have thought gaged, like whiskey, 

Ere it was stamped " for vent," 

And keep its fiery spirit down, 

To " proof of Parliament," 

And seize illicit mental-mills 

As you would seize illicit stills ; — 

All these, (to be presented 

And enforced with subtle words, 

By the Devil, in the Commons' House, 

And L**d****t in the Lords',) 

And all the dresses he had worn, 

With most eclat, on earth, 

His Cardinal's and Capuchin's, 

Policeman's, — and so forth, 

(His Inquisitor's had been much used, 

And now was little worth,) 

Were folded in the Devil's pack, 

And strapped, with his tail, upon his back ! — 

Then, — leaving, with Beelzebub, 

A note for Miguel, 

A Portuguese, expected there, — 

He turned his back on Hell ; 

And — whirled along in a sulphur-cloud, 

The Devil's own steam coach, — 

Up towards sun-bright Sicily, 



14 



He made his hot approach ! 

There, mounting on his fiery steed, — 

A young volcano's back, — 

He shot into the upper air, 

By his ancient, royal track ; 

And, 'mid the roar of ^Etna's guns, 

Which thundered a salute, 

Rode down its side, right royally, 

And dismounted at its foot ! 

Away, away, on rushing wings, 

His northward flight takes he, — 

A shadow in the air, that flings 

No shadow on the sea ! — 

The deep iEgean, all that night, 

Saw neither star nor moon, 

The scents fell, withered, back to earth, 

And the birds sang out of tune ; 

The watchmen-owls, in their hollow trees, 

Were afraid to call the hour, 

And all the beer in the Cyclades, 

In a single night, grew sour ! — 

As he paused above those ancient isles 

Where the Devil and the Turk 

Had played so many pleasant tricks, 

And done each other's work, 

In every isle, on every heart, 

Fell down a nameless fear, 

As the " evil days " were come again, 

And the Mussulman were near ! — 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 15 



But peace and hope above them hung, 

In a glorious rainbow blent, 

One arm was over Arta flung, 

And one on Volo leant,* — 

And the Devil knew it was a spell 

Too strong for Istamboul — or Hell ! 



'& 



From the glad green isles, in their bright blue frames, 

He turned, with a heart opprest, — 

But pleasant thoughts, as he eastward steered, 

Grew up within his breast ! 

At home, he had some of his Moslem friends, 

Already in their stations, 

And he called in Turkey, as he passed, 

With some further invitations ! 

Then up — beyond the Balkan's height, — 

Till he could look afar, — 

As he did, with a long and joyous gaze, — 

O'er the regions of the Czar ! — 

And the Devil was glad as a devil can be, 

By the time that he sailed over Italy ! 

He always loved that sunny clime, — 

And he stood, in a noble glow, 

Where he had feasted, many a time, 

With the Csesars, long ago ! 

He paused where Brutus slew his son, 

(The Devil was by at the time !) 

Where Cicero tempted felons on, 

And then hanged them for their crime ; 

* The boundary-line from Arto to Volo is the northern bound- 
ary of Greece. 



16 THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 

(Much in his own pleasant manner — and B*****'s, 

And he grinned to think he had such attorneys !) — 

Where Quintus Curtius rode to Hell, 

By a new and curious door, 

Which has always been shut, since that proud day, 

And had never been opened, before ! 

(But, there, his thoughts were painful, all, — 

Of a deeper gulph and a higher fall !) — 

Rome had, for ever, been to him 

" A city of the heart," 

And each of his spirits there, in turn, 

Had played a busy part, — 

But things had flourished beyond his hopes, 

Since the day when he made his viceroys Popes ! 

Away — away ! — o'er pleasant France, 

Where laugh and shout and song 

Are mingled with the merry dance ; 

And dark-eyed girls, to music, twine 

The twisted tendrils of the vine, 

Her olive-groves among ! — 

Where bounding hearts drink hope and joy 

In, with the common air, 

And tyranny must wed foul crime, 

Ere it can breed despair ! — 

Where joyous feelings, overstrained, — 

Like harps played out of tune, — 

Make discords, — but so harsh and loud, 

They fright the very moon, — 

Till, one by one, they take their flight, 

Like lute-strings breaking in the night ! 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 17 

The land was in a happy trance, 
But the Devil saw, at a single glance, 
That the trance could not be long ; — 
So, he called on the king, at the Tuilleries, 
(He knew its private way, — for he 
Had often before been up the back-stair ;) 
And what was said and settled there, 
By the Devil and the king, 
We are sure to know, on an early day ; — 
But, ere the fiend resumed his way, 
With a lighter mind and wing, 
He talked with the Dauphiness apart, — 
Oh ! he loves a Bourbon in his heart ! 

Away — across the broad blue moat 
That girdles England's strand, 
Till he landed where no enemy 
But himself had dared to land ! 
Awhile, he hovered high, to gaze 
On Ocean's fairest daughter, — 
But the Devil was tired of his airy flight, 
And quoth he, " I '11 go by water ! " 
So, he put his bundle in his hat, 
And spread one wing for a sail, 
And steered himself, like a water-rat, 
With his disencumbered tail ! 
He passed by many a shepherd's plain, 
And many a ploughman's ridge, 
Bv the shallows of the ; Isle of dogs ' 
And the rapids of London-Bridge ; — 
2 



18 THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 

Till he saw a huge mist-mantled dome, 
Like a mighty mystery, wrapped in gloom ; 
And on his ear came a holy chaunt, — 
So he plunged, with a sudden souse, 
And rose beside his ancient haunt, — 
Where holy sounds were rather scant, — 
The site of C***t*n-House ! 

They are two goodly cities, ours ! 
And the Devil paced them round ; 
And much, amid their tents and towers, 
(Their bower-screened walls, and wall-choked bow- 
ers,) 
To a Devil's taste he found ! 
(The Devil came, incog, to be sure, 
But his progresses diurnal, 
Like other ' fashionables',' found 
Their way to the 'Court Journal.') 
And much he saw to feed his pride, 
And much to move his mirth, — 
How the manners of his ancient court 
Were copied upon earth. 
Prince Mammon, his ambassador, 
Had pleasant things to tell, 
How he found himself as much at home 
As if he were in Hell : 
How his levee was attended 
By commoners and peers : 
And how all subscribed to keep the ways 
Of Satan in repairs : 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 19 

How he had got his private friends 

Into most of the public places ; 

And a little Devil to attend 

As page, to each of the ; Graces ' ; 

In every government-office a clerk, 

And a porter in most of the halls, 

And scribes to chalk his puffs, in the dark, 

Along the public walls : 

How he played Ecarte with the duke, 

And taught the duke " a thing 

Or two," — till the duke, like a shuffler good, 

Could always turn the king ! 

The Devil saw sycophants in power, 

And honesty in rags ; 

And bishops' consciences — in their sleeves, 

And lawyers' — in their bags ; 

Old usurers, licking up all around, 

Like a dying flame, in a socket ; 

And pensioners keeping their fingers warm, 

In the heat of the public pocket ; 

And demireps who rode and railed 

Over women of the town ; 

And slanderers darkening others' names, 

In honor of their own ; 

And judges, known from the thieves they hanged, 

By virtue of the gown ; 

And lowly courage, bending down 

Beneath some lordly bully ; 

And a deal of gambling going on, 

'Twixt the King and Mr. Gully ! — 



20 THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 

The Devil only feared that earth 

So proud in its vice had grown, 

It would soon be a hell, itself, and choose 

A devil of its own ! 

The Devil to St. Stephen's went, 
And heard a long debate, 
On the motion of 0'C****1, 
That the Devil take his seat ; 
That learned member shewed, in a speech, 
Of great research and nous^ 
That Satan, at all times, by usage, had 
A seat within that House : — 
So, the Devil took, and rose in his place, 
And presented his petitions ! 
(He was puzzled at first, to understand 
The novel coalitions !) 
He could not stay, to give his vote 
Against ; emancipation ' ; — 
But he spoke of Sixteen eighty-eight, 
And the danger of innovation ; 
He spoke of the Pope, and he said that the nation 
Had, already, one Scarlet abomination ; 
He implored them to pause, ere they doubled that evil, — 
And Sir Thomas L***b****e "paired off" with the 
Devil ! 

He saw, in the Ecclesiastical Court, 
Its c familiars ' ranged in a lane, 
As a dandy peer, on an elephent tame, 
Rode in, — and rode out, again ; 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 21 

And he, afterwards, heard that the dandy went, 
On his beast, through both Houses of Parliament ! 

He stood in a dim Cathedral aisle, 

With his foot upon a tomb, 

And he wore his own dark, haughty smile, 

'Mid its mystery and gloom ! — 

The tomb of him who would have made 

The world too glad and free ; 

And he trampled o'er the noble dead, 

Like hate o'er its enemy ! 

The spirit he could not enslave ! — 

And he spit upon the dead man's grave. 

The Devil went into Newgate, — and saw 

A thief by a priest forgiven ; 

By the word of the priest and the rope of the law 

Hanged — and sent, straight, to heaven ! — 

And the Devil grinned, — with as bitter a grin 

As of devil was ever begotten, 

To see the poor wretch turned off, with his ears 

And his conscience stuffed with Cotton* 

The Devil looked in, when the House of Peers 
Was discussing the Catholic question ; 
And heard many wise sayings that gladdened his ears, 
And quickened the fiend's digestion ; 

* We recommend to the perusal of Mr. Cotton, (and others, 
filling his solemn and responsible situation,) an admirable and 
powerfully- written paper, called " The Murderer's Last Night," 
— which appeared in Blackwood's Magazine, some time ago. 



22 the devil's progress. 

While W***h**s* # was mimicking 

An alligator's sighs ; 

And tears — not " such as angels weep " — 

Made Niles of E*d # n's eyes ! 

The Devil slowly from the Bank, 

Went musing to the Mint, — 

And each for tempting men to crime 

Supplied him with a hint ; 

And many things at each he found, 

That are a devil's food ; 

In that he saw the " Gates of Death," 

In this the " Field of Blood ! " 

And he made a note, as he went his way, 

That Monday next was hanging-day ! * 

He stopped, on his way, in Lincoln's-Inn, 
And gave a young gownsman a guinea, 
To move for an injunction, 
Against Chabert and Aldini ! 

He took a drive to the India House, 
Where he heard much pleasant news, 
The shooting of ninety-five Seapoys, 
And the burning of six Hindoos ! 

He stood beside a cottage lone, 
And listened to a lute, 

* Mr. Gates is the solicitor to the Society of Bankers, and 
Mr. Field the inspector to the Mint. 



the devil's progress. 23 

One summer eve, when the breeze was gone, 

And the nightingale was mute ! 

The moon was watching, on the hill, 

The stream was staid, and the maples still, 

To hear a lover's suit, 

That — half a vow, and half a prayer — 

Spoke less of hope than of despair ; 

And rose into the calm, soft air, 

As sweet and low 

As he had heard ■ — oh, woe ! oh, woe ! — 

The flutes of angels, long ago ! — 

" By every hope that earthward clings, 
By faith, that mounts on angel-wings, 
By dreams that make night shadows bright, 
And truths that turn our day to night, 
By childhood's smile, and manhood's tear, 
By pleasure's day^ and sorrow's year. 
By all the strains that fancy sings, 
And pangs that time so surely brings, 
For joy or grief — for hope or fear, 
For all hereafter — as for here, 
In peace or strife — in storm or shine, 
My soul is wedded unto thine ! " — 

And for its soft and sole reply, 

A murmur and a sweet, low sigh, 

But not a spoken word ; 

And, yet, they made the waters start 

Into his eyes who heard, 

For they told of a most loving heart, 



24 the devil's progress. 

In a voice like that of a bird ! — 

Of a heart that loved, — though it loved in vain, 

A grieving — and, yet, not a pain ! — 

A love that took an early root, 

And had an early doom, 

Like trees that never grow to fruit, 

And, early, shed their bloom ! * — 

Of vanished hopes and happy smiles, 

All lost for evermore ; 

Like ships, that sailed for sunny isles, 

But never came to shore ! — 

A flower that, in its withering, 

Preserved its fragrance, long; — 

A spirit that had lost its wing, 

But, still, retained its song ! — 

A joy that could not, aZZ, be lost, 

A comfort in despair ! — 

And the Devil fled, like a lated ghost, 

That snuffs the purer air ; 

For he felt how lovers' own sweet breath 

Surrounds them, like a spell, 

And he knew that love — as " strong as death " — 

Is far too strong for Hell ; 

And, from the country of its birth, 

Brings thoughts — in sorrow or in mirth, — 

That sanctify the earth, — 

Like angels, earthward tempest driven, 

And waiting to return to heaven ! 

* E fornito '1 mio tempo a mezzo gli anni ! 



the devil's progress. 25 

He saw a parson, counting o'er 
The parish fields in tillage ; 
Then tether his horse 'mid the waving grass, 
In the churchyard of the village ! — 
And he thought of the agriculturist, 
From the home of his fathers driven, 
And the parson's wit, in making the dead 
A portion of his Living ! 

He saw a patriarch of the fields, 

A remnant of the past, — 

Fresh as an aged thorn, that yields 

Its blossoms to the last, — 

Lead forth, from England's merry shore, 

A young and sturdy brood, 

To cross the wide Pacific's roar, 

For shelter and for food ! — 

And he spoke, in his place, in Parliament, 

In defence of tithes and heavy rent ! 

He heard a lawyer " making the worse 
Appear the better reason " ; 
And, quoth he, " friend Belial's seed hath grown 
Much good fruit, in its season ! " 

He saw a pauper sent to the wheel, 
For starving and mendicity ; — 
And he thought of England's equal laws, 
And a hungry Briton's felicity ! 



28 the devil's progress. 

He saw two spouses, " newly llest" 
Quarrelling over their tea ; — 
" Why, ' devil with devil damned,' at home, 
4 Firm concord holds,' " quoth he ! * 

He saw a Bow-street officer 

Bear witness against a thief ; 

And a magistrate pocket a parish-bribe, 

For refusing a pauper relief; — 

And the Devil likened the one and the other, 

To the sons of Israel, selling their brother ! 

He subscribed to the society 

For suppressing the growth of vice ; 

And the Devil shewed his piety, 

By giving donations, twice ! 

At present, the chair is ably filled, 

And, of course, they have no vice, 

Or the Devil's zeal is such, he were sure 

To be chosen, in a trice ! 

He saw a father pressed, in his bed ; 

And the Devil laughed his fill, 

To think that Wilberforce was dead, 

And the slave-trade living, still ; — 

And he muttered one of our national staves, 

" Britons never shall be slaves ! " 

* And so said Milton, before him. 



the devil's progress. 27 

The Devil went to the Opera-house, 

At eight, on Saturday-night, 

And many things, there, he both saw and heard, 

That tickled his ear and sight ! 

The manager's clock struck the hour of twelve, 

Just as the Ballet was done, 

So, the Devil's watch must have been too fast, 

For, it pointed nearly one ! 

Oh ! sweetest, in the Devil's eye, 

Is the sin that is covered with a lie ; 

And dearest those who take his road, 

Like monks of old, in the name of God ! 

A Hebrew knelt, in the dying light, — 

His eye was dim and cold, 

The hairs on his brow were silver-white, 

And his blood was thin and old ! 

He lifted his look to his latest sun, — 

For, he knew that his pilgrimage was done ! — 

Arid as he saw God's shadow there,* 

His spirit poured itself in prayer ! 

" I come unto death's second-birth, 
Beneath a stranger-air, 
A pilgrim on a dull, cold earth, 
As all my fathers were I 

* Plato calls Truth, the body of God, and Light, his shadow ! 
— perhaps the sublimest of all conceptions, having a merely 
mortal breast for their birth-place. 



28 the devil's progress. 

And men have stamped me with a curse, ■ 

I feel it is not Thine, 

Thy mercy — like yon sun — was made 

On me — as them — to shine ; 

And, therefore, dare I lift mine eye, 

Through that, to Thee, — before I die ! 

" In this great temple, built by Thee, 
Whose altars are divine, 
Beneath yon lamp, that, ceaselessly, 
Lights up Thine own true shrine, 
Oh ! take my latest sacrifice, — 
Look down, and make this sod 
Holy as that where, long ago, 
The Hebrew met his God ! 

" I have not caused the widow's tears, 
Nor dimmed the orphan's eye, 
I have not stained the virgin's years, 
Nor mocked the mourner's cry ; 
The songs of Zion, in mine ear, 
Have, ever, been most sweet, 
And, always, when I felt Thee near, 
My c shoes' were c off my feet ' ! 

" I have known Thee, in the whirlwind, 
I have known Thee, on the hill, 
I have loved Thee, in the voice of birds, 
Or the music of the rill ! — 



THE DEVIL S PROGRESS. 

I dreamt Thee, in the shadow, 
I saw Thee, in the light, 
I heard Thee, in the thunder-peal, 
And worshipped, in the night ! 
All beauty, while it spoke of Thee, 
Still made my soul rejoice, 
And my spirit bowed within itself, 
To hear Thy ' still, small voice' ! — 
I have not felt myself a thing 
Far from Thy presence driven, 
By flaming sword or waving wing, 
Shut out from Thee and heaven ! 

" Must I the whirlwind reap, because 

My fathers sowed the storm, 

Or shrink — because another sinned, — 

Beneath Thy red right-arm ? 

Oh ! much of this we dimly scan, 

And much is all unknown, — 

But I will not take my curse from man, 

I turn to Thee, alone ! 

Oh ! bid my fainting spirit live, 

And what is dark reveal, 

And what is evil oh ! forgive, 

And what is broken heal, 

And cleanse my nature, from above, 

In the deep Jordan of Thy love ! 

" I know not if the Christian's heaven 
Shall be the same as mine, 



29 



30 the devil's progress. 

I only ask to be forgiven, 

And taken home to Thine ! 

I weary on a far, dim strand, 

Whose mansions are as tombs, 

And long to find the father-land, 

Where there are many homes ! — 

Oh ! grant, of all yon starry thrones, 

Some dim and distant star, 

Where Judah's lost and scattered sons 

May love Thee, from afar ! 

When all earth's myriad harps shall meet, 

In choral praise and prayer, 

Shall Zion's harp — of old so sweet — 

Alone be wanting there ? 

Yet, place me in Thy lowest seat, 

Though I — as now — be, there, 

The Christian's scorn, the Christian's jest ; 

But let me see and hear, 

From some dim mansion, in the sky, 

Thy bright ones, and their melody ! " 

The sun goes down, with sudden gleam, 

And — beautiful as a lovely dream, 

And silently as air, — 

The vision of a dark-eyed girl, 

With long and raven hair, 

Glides in — as guardian spirits glide, — 

And, lo ! is kneeling by his side ; 

As if her sudden presence, there, 

Were sent, in answer to his prayer ! 



THE DEVIL'S PROGRESS. 31 

(Oh ! say they not that angels tread 

Around the good man's dying-bed ! ) 

His child ! — his sweet and sinless child ! — 

And as he gazed on her, 

He knew his God was reconciled, 

And this the messenger, — 

As sure as God had hung, on high, 

The promise-bow before his eye ! — 

Earth's purest hope thus o'er him flung, 

To point his heavenward faith, 

And life's most holy feeling strung, 

To sing him into death ! — 

And, on his daughter's stainless breast, 

The dying Hebrew sought his rest ! 

The Devil turned, uneasily, round, 

For he knew that the place was holy ground ! 

But, ere he passed, he saw a Turk 

Spit on the bearded Jew ; 

And a Christian cursed those who could not eat pork ; — 

Quoth the Devil, "These worthies may do my work ; 

For one lost, here are two ! 

Turk, or Jew, or their Christian brother, 

I seldom lose one, but I gain another ! " 

He saw an ancient friend of his, 

When a lean and furious whig ; — 

But his voice was small and bell-like, now, 

And his system sleek and big ; 

His sleeves were of lawn, — and each of them 

Would have held a tithing pig ; 






32 the devil's progress. 



And he looked like a clerk who would rather beg 

Than either starve or dig ; 

And his words were full of wisdom, now, 

The " wisdom" that comes with " the wig !" — 

And the Devil smiled, — and quoth he, " We made 

Our way in the world, by the selfsame trade ! " 

The Devil walked up Chancery-Lane, 
And into the Chancery-Court, 
Intending, like many who enter there, 
To make his visit short ! — 

But the printer's devil — a little black imp ! — 

Is waiting for his tail,* 

And swears — like a chip of the parent-block, — 

That his time and patience fail ; — 

So, all we can add to the present strain 

Is, the Devil has not, yet, got out, again ! 

* Query, Tale ? 



THE END. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: April 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 
(724)779-2111 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




003 286 883 6 fl 



